stars like sighted roses
by Aurora-Borealis Coyote
Summary: Kanae remembers enough. Set post- Black Rose arc.


**My first attempt at getting into Kanae's head. This takes place after her Black Rose episode. And I hope I did Mitsuru fine at the end…di**

**warnings- sexual content, strong themes**

Kanae wakes in a room framed with mirrors, but the first things she sees is that tower. That tower- never out of her sight, never far enough from her. It's not the _place _that's uncomfortable, she halfway figures –it's the environment. Anyone can end up locked in towers or given to palaces, but not everyone is free, in ways that can't be described by vision, by flat impressions.

It isn't so hard to understand, really, but she supposes it wasn't ever that hard for her to _understand-_ (sometimes she thinks it would have been just so much easier if she could have just posed herself still like a mannequin, there is no place for sadness in a hollow girl, after all, eyes that shine prettily and unbreakably cannot make tears, the silence of pleasantly smiling mouths that do not speak does not matter- but she can't let them know, as far as she's concerned, they don't see the sharp edge of her weakness that she doesn't want to see herself.)

Slowly coming awake, she forgets her dreams (they're usually too unpleasant to remember anyway), noticing her face projected across the mirrors- it's almost obvious what's behind her eyes, the way all her faces, angled at different positions throw themselves around her makes her want to go back to sleep.

Well, she tells herself, maybe she'll get some rest tonight- being alone does have its benefits, when it can, after all. Maybe that's what she's telling herself so she won't realize that her eyes burn with sadness, not being tired. Maybe she tells herself that to distract her hands as they claw through her hair. Of course, she gets up. Staying down too long traps you, right? She isn't sure.

_Xx_

Later on she's back in her room, head in her hands, eyes closed. She isn't crying, though, she doesn't have the energy to. Not lately, she can't remember the last time she allowed herself to succumb to such heavy emotions, or at least their releases. She doesn't see herself as an unemotional person, but it doesn't make her feel right, if it's noticeable what goes on in her mind, behind the curtained window that is her face.

She smothers her hands to her mouth to silence the gasping noises that keep coming out as if she's _supposed _to be sobbing uncontrollably, barely able to breathe. She is Kanae Ohtori, a good, young girl, elegant and effortless, and good young girls don't have secrets that are better left untold.

She is a nice, pleasant, quiet girl, with no reason to tell a secret anyway. The Kanae Ohtori everyone knows is just a harmless, sweet girl, not a –

_Her unhinged face, wild hair flying as she lunges across the shadows, clinging to the sword _you can scream now _and she can feel them burning, feel it catching on her limbs as she dodges the pink-haired girl- _

She has half- memories, they come whole sometimes, and other times she just wants to forget but who can forget realizing what they are?

Which is why she knows she'll never talk about it with anyone, why she stays in her room when she knows Utena Tenjou will come to visit Akio and his sister, why she's stayed away from elevators in paranoia as if it can just choose its own direction for her- if you don't press the button your fate will, _princess_- why she knows she'll always be questioning even though she has the answers.

She inhales longer than she needs to, trying to stabilize her breath as she raises her head. This should not be something she is used to. A girl like her should not have to force herself into normalcy, happiness- she should not have to notice any flaws. If she only looks at the beauty then there wil be no flaws effecting her-

As she does what she is told and acts accordingly, she tries for her best mindset. Tries.

She looks at her hands, which she tentatively raises to her eye level- long, thin fingers; smooth palms, clear and even nails. The hands of a princess, waving to admirers, holding valuable objects, resting in the other hand of a prince. If she wore gloves you can almost see the rigidity awaits a sword to match their tension- she can see. But she wasn't ever meant to.

She runs her hands through her light hair, feeling the waves spread out over her shoulders, down over her still throat, over the final-sounding bang of her heartbeat, over her soft skin covered by her clothing- see, she tells herself. This is the body of a girl who does not have to take happiness. Your hands can feel her well enough to know her. I am not different from who I had been-

It's believable enough.

_Xx_

Kanae looks over the roses her mother had instructed her to give to her father. She's supposed to visit him soon, and it's not that she doesn't want to visit him because his days are numbered and she accepted that long ago he wouldn't come back unless more than one miracle happened.

She's never seen a miracle. But they've got to be there somehow, if there can be occurrences so indescribably extraordinary, then there have to be some indescribably great things to happen-

Not to her.

She _hates _those flowers, she's always hated roses- the way their thick scent clots the air as if they're demanding her to recognize what their beauty symbolizes- she'll be rid of them soon. She'll visit her father and sometimes she feels as if she just can't do it anymore, can't just watch him covered in tubes and tell him _Mother and I are doing fine, we hope you feel better soon_.

(If you don't do it then nobody will) She needs to though. He's one of the few people she has. And she can't waste time he's borrowing. But why can't she do it- she almost can't look at him sometimes. She wants to run away every time she has to lie to him- _mother misses you. Akio would like to meet you. _

Sometimes she thinks he's better off away from him. When he gets better, _if_ he gets better, she dreads seeing him return to their excuse for a family, but it's nothing she's not used to. Whoever the blame rests with in the end, she won't try and settle scores.

It's all lost. And she won't try and get back lost things.

_X_x

The telephone rings, and she already knows who it is by the first sound of its bell. Nobody else would call anyway. She doesn't have much contact with her classmates outside of the school day, and when Akio comes, he never gives any warning.

"Hello, Mother," Kanae says softly, knowing her voice is barely audible, and not caring.

"How did you know it was me?" comes her mother's aloof, amused reply. She taught Kanae to be quiet, and to expect to be criticized for it.

"I…I just…wasn't expecting anyone else," she says.

"Not even Akio? I'd have thought you'd have had him _enthralled_ with you," she can sense her mother mocking her. She's not imagining the tilt of her mother's voice,not imagining the scent of her mother's perfume on Akio's body, she's not imagining her mother's laughing every time she looks in the mirror-

"He's busy for a lot of the time." There is a pause. One of the many times she has little to say. Kanae doesn't trust words, doesn't trust what people do to cover their true selves. Emotions tell the truth but they can be fabricated and they betray too easily. Kanae knows all this. She trusts too easily and doesn't think she can stop- she wants to believe them all. (you're my princess, he had told her, the world has many but you have it inside of you. She hadn't asked what he meant.) She should. "I thought you knew."

Her mother waits for a moment, Kanae knows she should have said something else- it doesn't matter if she knows, though, she doesn't think her mother gets what she meant and that's fine. "Of course, Kanae. I've spent enough time with you two…"

"Mother, I-"

"Kanae." Her mother's voice frightens her, fills her with guilt, makes her want to hang up the telephone. "Please don't," her mother whispers.

She can't read her mother's mind, but she doesn't want to. (I won't blame you for everything. It isn't your fault that I'm…_she hears herself screaming, covering her face as rose petals scatter around her feet like a sudden dream stabbing her_.)

"I have to leave." She places a hand to her forehead, feeling a fevered temperature, her breath ragged and uneven. The vision almost comes back to her mind, she can see a sword, she looks out her window and all she still can see is that tower-

Hastily she drops the telephone to its stand, not noticing as it clatters to the ground, as she walks to the window, sweepingly jerking the deep violet curtain shut. That tower just makes her- makes her want to run.

And she has nothing to run to.

_Xx_

A loud knocking sound fills the room, and she almost jumps up from the couch as she realizes she had - fallen asleep. "Kanae." That voice says her name, she couldn't ever mistake that voice- low and wise and full of mysteries she knows he doesn't think she'll solve. "You're here."

It's not that she doesn't love him, how could she not? He's been there for her when nobody noticed her, he found her on his own account and didn't listen to what anyone said about her when they didn't think she was listening or just didn't care- (_that girl has these tendencies, _she heard_ she's got her heart in the right place but she's a bit off in the head_ or_ there's a reason why she's always alone_.) But then Akio found her and told her she was wonderful and asked for her hand and wasn't it worth trying for a happily ever after?

His shirt buttons are undone. (what was her name today? Did she touch you the way your sister touches your swords) And his hair looks like it's been taken out of place-she's seen him like that before, though. "Dear. I didn't expect you to be here so early…" she says, her eyes purposefully not meeting his. He walks closer to her, gliding next to her on the couch. Sometimes he forgets her. Both of them know that by now.

A strange look clouds over his eyes, one she knows too well. His hands move to her shoulders, fingertips kneading at her back; she feels his hair fall against her as he's closer, his legs are encircling hers- the silky fabric of the furniture brushes over her skin. She feels coldness charge through her, almost shivering, as she grips his shoulder, forcing her head forward onto his mouth, her tongue roaming and her head pushing him back, her fingers grating down his sides.

She abruptly pushes back, feeling compressed and exhausted. Her eyes widen, frozen, for a moment as her shoulders heave frantically, hair in tangled strands over her face. He looks at her as if he's deep in thought- she's never seen him look confused before, but she is too, almost.

_I remember. _

Everything. She realizes, as if it had never been forgotten, how could she have not remembered , how could she have let it happen, how does anything like that go on-

And of course it does anyway, she knows, but she can't stop it-

Her eyelids close gradually, and her head rolls to the side as she slides to her back on the couch, still breathing heavily, but slower. Through her distorted feeling and tumultuous thoughts, she can still feel him leaving but almost doesn't care.

_Xx_

She opens her eyes and the stars chase her as she is still, they move through her- she can almost sense them taking her slowly, giving her a new self-

She _remembers_ though, remembers falling to the ground and not wanting to get up, she remembers the glinting blade waving in front of her face_ and didn't she have one that could win- _

She pushes herself upwards, her body almost being sent back down as a sharp pain stabs through her chest, but she clutches her hand to herself as she slams her feet to the ground- she _will _stand up, if she couldn't win then nobody will save her and she doesn't have much else to lose-

Her teeth clench but she doesn't notice, not as the universe caves in on her, and she can see violet reflections on her hands, glimmering blue shadows, silver marks from another world come to her now.

The roses stand from across the room, like a tower- each one of them stares together, from its petal-surrounded center, like a sumptuous vortex- pacing towards them, she doesn't look away, not until the vase is in her hands, not until she's back in her room and the lights have been left on-

Reflections of her,wild-haired and half dressed and the _roses_ scattered grotesquely (there's a mess so terrible oh I think it shouldn't be picked up) their petals in a distorted array-

She grits her teeth, lunging her arm towards the mirror clawing at its frozen surface (she wants to _destroy it _render it to powder and shards render it to _nothing _she'll never have to look at herself again but she can't look away _SHE CAN'T _look away she can feel screaming building up in the back of her throat and she swallows it down her warm throat is shaking) a twisted grimace scratches her mouth open – _KANAE! _She hears the roaring calling her maybe it's her but maybe it's the rain (she hates that rain sometimes and doesn't know why) and she doesn't want to come when she's called anymore _KANAE_ shrill and furious what do you want with me what do you want from me that I haven't already given _DAMN YOU KANAE _if_ I break this mirror then maybe it's one less way to be observed- _

Grinding her teeth, yes, her eyes are wet and red, she grips both sides of the vase and holds it so tight she can feel its edges sticking into her hands and she drops it to the ground, watching in terror as it cracks (things break all the time and nothing changes) what have you done do you ruin everything you're a monster- the petals soak in spreading water. Without their petals, roses just aren't the same.

A small noise escapes her throat. She slowly sinks to the bed on her side,lying only for a few minutes- until she can get herself together. Soon. It needs to be, she has to be able- she can't tell if she's asleep.

_Xx_

Of course, she had accepted the invitation of the school to one of its usual grandiose overcrowded balls. She has nobody to go with, but she doesn't mind. Watching it all go on, considering what does go on, is probably better anyway.

One of the mirrored panels on the wall thrusts her image in her face; wrapped in a dark violet dress, hands shaded in matching gloves, eyes glassy and hard, glittering jewelry, disheveled hair.

The music, she can barely pay attention to. It all sounds the same after a while until she can't hear anything else in her head.

Her eyes snap open as she sees that pink-haired girl, Utena Tenjou- she'd never forget her face- from across the room, but she turns her head away immediately. She can't deal with her, and has a feeling she wouldn't mind if she never had to again.

"it's such an exciting party!" says a small boy, who she hadn't noticed.

"Oh…I suppose it really is," she doesn't like this kind of big function anyway, but still, for what it is, she can tell it's the best of its kind. _Beautiful. _(then there's the eye of the beholder but it's their word over anyone else's) "Is it your first time at one?" he looks so young, so…experienced somehow.

"One of my first. Have you been to a whole lot of these?" he asks her, and there's a contented spark in his eyes and she thinks he'd be better off, in a way, slowing down.

"Enough to be accustomed to them," used to watching people dance and leaving first during the height of the celebration- she knows what sort of place this is, what sort of business these people get into. It isn't really what she wants. But she isn't quite sure what she wants anymore.

"You look very nice," he compliments her. A younger kid like that, she thinks, probably just realizing how he's supposed to be in love with the idea of girls and be at war with them. She remembers having seen him around that duelist girl, Nanami Kiryuu. There's something about him she can't quite put her finger on, something almost familiar.

"Thank you," she tells him. It can't be. It could be. Why not?

Those who fight for others and themselves, she realizes, can never understand that one way or another they'll lose. No matter what kind of attachment, no matter what kind of person, once it's forged- she found out too late didn't she why didn't she even- being alone with other people isn't always worse to her than just being alone. She can pretend she's the way everyone sees her as, Kanae Ohtori, and there's not much to being the princess until you start to forget, until people start to look- she closes her eyes slowly, feeling the saxophone music hum in her chest loudly as if she's riding along at an immeasurable speed, her hair flying back as if she can see the end and the beginning meld together. Princess. She almost hates the sound of it. She's not going to be saved- she's a witch now. And a witch never forgets, no matter what she pretends-

If she couldn't be saved, then now, all she has is herself, she thinks. And if this world is the one she's going to be in- then, she could stay trapped in the earth's shell, or just maybe she won't mind remembering so much if it means she won't have to rely on being saved.

She knows either way she won't be the one to make a revolution. But she can tell that, whether or not it will be stopped, it's coming.


End file.
